Ryland #3
“This is Felicia’s way of loving Rylee. Same as you being with us was her way of loving you.”
“Love…” I scoffed and glared at my mother. “This shit isn’t love.” I slammed the envelope on the counter.
“Sweetheart…”
“Nah, don’t make excuses for her. She doesn’t deserve grace. If she didn’t want to be a parent, she should have made better choices because she didn’t have to be.”
My mother nodded. “I agree but I’m glad she did because we have you and Rylee.”
I closed my eyes, enjoying a moment of reprieve from the pain building behind them. “I hate this…and not for me because I’m good, but she deserves better.”
“She’s going to have better, Ryland. She has you.”
“She is, but fuck, what has her life been?”
I knew what life was like for me. I had been secluded, and in a sense, so was Rylee.
Because she was deaf, which meant her experience with Felicia had to be ten times worse.
The only solace I had was hopefully like me, since the life Rylee had was all she knew, she wouldn’t be aware of how empty it was until she experienced better. I would give my sister better.
“Rylee is okay. She’s a beautiful child who has people in her life who love her.”
“But not the person who should.” I glared at my mother who slipped onto the stool behind me.
“I need to tell you something about your mother…”
“Felicia,” I corrected and she didn’t attempt to argue the point. She understood how I felt on the matter and allowed me to have my own thoughts and opinions.
“Being a parent is hard, but being a parent when you’re barely keeping your head above water mentally and emotionally is worse. Your mother has been struggling with depression since before she had you…”
I wasn’t sure how my mother knew this but would bet it came down to Miranda doing what she always did, taking care of everyone. Even those who didn’t deserve her care, like Felicia.
“If depression was an issue before me, she should have made better choices. She damn sure shouldn’t have been careless enough to put herself in the position to have another child, knowing she never wanted the first one she tossed away,” I gritted.
“I agree, but you’re here, Rylee’s here, so we focus on the two of you and not what we can’t change.”
I smirked and she frowned. “What?”
“Solution not the problem,” I muttered.
My mother smiled. “Your father and I have been married for a long time. We are one in the same.”
“Yeah, you are.”
She placed her hand on my cheek for a brief moment, like she used to do when I was a kid.
I hated it back then because I was always in a space of trying to assert my ability to be a man.
Didn’t know a damn thing about being a man but felt like I was.
Now, her touch grounded me and brought me comfort.
Made me feel loved, wanted, appreciated.
“I’m going to head up to bed. I just wanted you to have that because I felt like it would help speed things up with getting a temporary custody order.”
“Thank you.” I leaned over and pulled her into a hug before she left me with my thoughts for a second time tonight.
Once she was upstairs, I walked to the refrigerator and opened the cabinet above it, grabbing the bottle of pills that my mother demanded I leave here for moments like this.
I tossed two back and made my way back to the seat I’d just vacated.
I lifted my phone and followed through on the call to Vanessa, knowing she would either be up because her ass didn’t sleep or answer assuming there was a problem. She was always accessible, which made her the best publicist in the business.
I gotta stop fucking up. I can’t lose Van, I thought while I waited for her voice to flow through the line.
“What did you do?” was how she greeted me, and at the very least, I was thankful—based on the alert tone of her voice—that Vanessa was already awake.
“Not me this time. I know I’m on your shit list but I need help.”
I moved through all the details I had and Vanessa remained quiet.
Surprisingly, she didn’t run down all the reasons why I didn’t need to entertain becoming Rylee’s full-time guardian and instead mapped out a plan to get this settled as quickly as possible.
Before she ended the call, she promised to get in touch with Raaj Armond, my attorney.
The two of them would work on pushing the custody through so I could get home as quickly as possible.
Once I had assurance from Vanessa that the situation would be handled, I grabbed my duffle and headed up to my childhood bedroom, praying I could get sleep but knowing I wouldn’t.
There were too many things I needed to unpack, and unfortunately, the knowledge that Felicia struggled with depression was now on that list.
Not that I cared, because I couldn’t, but the insight brought clarity to a lot of questions I had about why things played out like this.
In life, people played the hand they were dealt.
She was my hand but also Rylee’s. As shitty as the odds were, I would guarantee my sister won every fucking round moving forward.